


what you're not to do

by irnan



Series: mischiefmanaged!verse [14]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, mischiefmanaged!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 12:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irnan/pseuds/irnan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kingsley was careful not to call it an interrogation; and in a way it really wasn't - what were they being interrogated for, saving the wizarding world? please - but in a way it sort of was, because things were not yet that different.</p><p>They would be, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what you're not to do

This was Harry's third cup of coffee in as many hours since midnight, and each had been stronger than the last. His throat was sore, and his eyes hurt and watered when he blinked; the air in the room was still and stuffy. Bit like being in a prison cell, in a way. 

"And the amulet tried to drown you," said Hera patiently. 

"The Horcrux," said Harry, "tried to drown me. If I'd stopped to think I'd've taken it off - or gone back and given it to Hermione - but there wasn't time, and I was so used by then to not letting it out of my sight." 

"So you dived, and Mr Weasley saved you."

"He and Hermione are good at that," Harry said with hoarse aplomp.

 

*********

"... occur to you that you were provoking reprisals against yourself and your fellow students?" 

Ginny rubbed at the scars along her arms for the thousandth time that week - that morning. 

"Yes," she said. 

Never tell them more than they already know, said Fred's voice in her ear. Fred had fought back with every trick in his arsenal, and Ginny - less inventive, she knew, but no less capable - had followed him every step of the way, because if you didn't fight back, what were you? 

Maria Thompson glared at her. "Then why continue doing it?" 

Pause. Find your words, Weasley. 

"Because," she said, "I am a Gryffindor. We don't collaborate. We don't make it easier for them. We don't give up. And we don't bow to threats." 

Nothing, that was what. 

Nell Thompson had buckled like a collapsible umbrella, running errands like it was all she was good for, tongue probably black with boot polish by now. Perhaps her mother knew it, because when Ginny met her eyes, she flushed.

 

*********

 

A bluebottle was buzzing against the small window with what Luna considered to be inappropriate cheerfulness. She was not given to considering things inapproriate, because instincts were important. People's initial reactions were usually right.

But she found that bluebottle rather annoying. 

"For the last time, Daddy," she said. "No." 

"Luna, Luna, come now. There are things to do, great work, Luna -" 

"Daddy, there's work to do at Hogwarts as well. I want to help. It wouldn't be right to tear it down and not help build it back up." 

Daddy sighed and reached across the table to take her hands. "Luna, you didn't tear it down. Let's get out of here. Let's go home."

Luna shook her head. "Of course I tore it down," she said, slightly surprised. "Daddy, what else was the point of all of this?"

 

*********

 

"Charges," Hermione said flatly. She smelt stale coffee and fresh parchment, pressing her thumbnail into the palm of her opposite hand. 

"Under other circumstances, quite probably," said Kingsley. "Hermione, it's not nothing, what you did." 

"I understand that," she said. The whole dingy office was vilely boring, and her emotions seemed to be flatlined; anger, indignation, relief, happiness, nothing could stir her.

"I understand why you did it," said Kingsley. "So will anyone who reads this file." He tapped it with a fingertip. "Now. We'll arrange to have your parents transported back to St Mungo's; it will take a while for the Healers to lift the charm. They'll do it bit by bit, layer by layer."

Hermione nodded. She was interested to find that not even this could rouse her: Mum and Dad, abstract concepts from far away and long ago. As far and as long as primary school and maths lessons, as being teased and picked on, as planning her future exam by exam, wavering only at Cambridge's gates: a medical degree or an academic career? 

She had, by now, other plans entirely. 

"Where are you going to be, in the mean time?" 

Only one answer to that. 

"Home - with Ron and Harry."

 

*********

 

The scritch of the Quotes Quill on the parchment was filling Neville's whole world. The witch opposite - he'd not managed to learn her name, it had gone in one ear and out the other, like Transfiguration lessons - was watching him sympathetically. 

"How many more?" 

"None," she said gently. "That's enough. You'll need to sign all the affidavits, of course. But then it's done and you're out of here. We've more than enough to convict the Carrows and half-a-dozen other Death Eaters." 

"Provided," said Neville, "they're not actually on the Wizengamot." 

She looked away. 

Exactly, he thought. Well, it had been worth it, either way. He'd go and see Mum and Dad, and try to tell them. Maybe they'd understand. 

"Have you caught Lestrange yet?" 

She shook her head. "He's still at large. The Minister wants a word with you about that - and several of your friends as well. I think he trusts you more than his own Auror Office."

"Amazingly," said Neville, "I am not in the least surprised." 

(There was a thing to credit Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter with: teaching Neville Longbottom sarcasm.)

 

*********

 

"Forgive me," said Dawlish, "I'm still a little unclear on this Basilisk skeleton business." 

"The way I remember you, you're unclear on everything," said Ron. He was not feeling in a mood to cooperate. Fifth day of testimonies, and he hadn't seen Harry or Hermione or Ginny or Neville or Luna since Wednesday, and to be perfectly honest with you it was making him jumpy.

Dawlish glared. 

"I don't know how you're not suspended after what you did to Neville's Gran," he added. 

The Auror shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Orders..." 

"Yeah," said Ron. "The Carrows gave them, too. Talked to my sister yet?" 

If you get in there first and cheek 'em hard enough you can get away with a surprising amount of stuff, said Fred to him over steak and kidney pie at the Gryffindor table. Or had it been gulash? Stupid little uncertainty that Fred would have laughed at him for being bothered by. 

"Somebody outside the office has to make an official complaint against you, right?" said Ron, watching him. "To start a disciplinary hearing. Tonks told me. Oi, Jimmy!" This last directed at the half-open door.

A blonde witch stuck her head in and raised an eyebrow at him. 

"I want to lodge an official complaint," said Ron, and jerked his head at Dawlish. 

She grinned at him.

 

*********

 

Finally it was so late at night it probably counted as early, all of them escaping at approximately the same time. Ginny groaned theatrically and fell against Ron, who shook her off onto Neville. 

"I'm not carrying you back to George's." 

"Coz you're a git," said his sister cheerfully. "God, I need breakfast." 

"I need a drink," Harry muttered. 

"I think we should go to the Leaky Cauldron," said Luna. "I've never eaten in the Leaky Cauldron. Daddy says they put things in the food to stop you from leaving so you don't get into Muggle London, but I think that sounds unlikely." 

The others looked at each other. 

"Will wonders never cease," said Hermione affectionately and hooked an arm through Luna's. 

It was summer now; the air was dewy-cool even here in the city, and the streets were quiet yet, and, free and clear at last of official duties, they left the Ministry in silence as the sun rose over the rooftops of London.

 


End file.
